pandatreasure (
pandatreasure) wrote2017-12-24 12:44 am
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GRAVEYARD
[You know you must have died—nothing is ever easy around here, certainly not quick, so you must remember burning, bleeding, falling, dying?
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
And yet. You're waking up.
Do you recognize it here, once you pick yourself up off of the hard floor, maybe half-strewn across a couch or beanbag chair? This room died, too: you're in the library, good as new and maybe better than that, only barely smelling of burnt paper and you only sometimes kick up ash, just like those old wounds that finished you off only ache every now and again, dully.
The book selection isn't quite the same as you remember it—all the bad erotica that didn't die is missing here, sorry to say, but so are the books on everyone's home worlds. Snoop around enough and behind the librarian's desk, you'll find tablets: one for each participant of the game, and with enough experimentation, you'll find the one that reacts when you press the button. You're already logged into your Recyclr account and can read the feed, but the same rules apply: 140 characters, one tweet a day. The voting app is gone, replaced by a sort of security monitoring kind of app. Characters can view different rooms of the school, or even place a few side by side so they can view a few at a time, and they'll be able to see the living go about their day to day lives. There's even an archive of recordings, but only the important ones: murders, executions, investigations, trial highlight reels, and major events like libraries being burned down. Was watching yourself die once not enough? Boy have I got good news for you!!!
It's kind of exciting that you can go around touching stuff, probably, despite being super dead and vaguely transparent in a way you notice like your own breathing; you don't and then you do and it's all you can think about, but your tangibility only extends to the inanimate: try to touch any of your fellow deceased and you'll find that you just pass right on through like touching cold air.
The windows aren't bolted up with those big metal plates on this side of things, but look out of them anytime and it's just pitch-black and still outside, so that's demoralizing. There is, of course, the door out of the library—but for now it's locked up tight. Whatever is a ghost to do?]
((Recyclr
Offerings/Letters
Day 11
Day 14
Day 16))
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You punched me in the head with coffee beans.
How can I ever trust you ever again?
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No, I'm kidding.
[sits up, lowering the book into his lap]
I'm fine. Didn't even hurt.
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[He pauses for a moment.]
Wanna trick people into eating coffee beans?
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Absolutely, I do.
Ichigo first.
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We couldn't kiss even if we wanted to, and it's cruel to take flirting away from me.
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You put a piece of paper in-between your two dumb faces.
[Rin has no experience dating whatsoever but even he can figure this stuff out.]
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scientific purposes!
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But why are you asking for cling wrap for Ichigo and I?
[WAIT]
Or are you trying to fulfill your best man duties?
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[WHY ARE YOU ASKING FOR CLING WRAP RIN]
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-- what are you doing?
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You're not putting a bean in his mouth, you crafty fucks]
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[ugh fine. he grabs a few coffee beans and tucks them into one of his pockets (semi-transparency means that they can easily be seen), before he climbs up on top of one of the bookshelves adjacent to Ichigo]
[and then]
[flicks a coffee bean at him]
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TACTICAL MANEUVERS!!]
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[totally using his phantom thief dexterity to practically leap from his bookcase to the one off of which Ichigo is hanging, so he can stare down at him with a >:3c expression, another coffee bean in hand]
You know, it's really not that bad.
no subject
Drops down, rolling and running off to hide behind another bookshelf.]
Sorry, but I don't want any!
[This is totally a game now, and it's clear in his voice.]
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[launches himself from the top of the shelf, landing in an impressive tuck and roll and popping back up into a crouch. he immediately leaps after Ichigo, holding the coffee bean above his head as he does so]
Don't knock it until you try it!
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1/2
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